


hobbies are apt to run away from us

by jacksonwng



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, F/M, Hate Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksonwng/pseuds/jacksonwng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was never supposed to happen but once it did it was hard to stop. Or when Derek and Allison have hate sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hobbies are apt to run away from us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [strayedwolf](http://strayedwolf.tumblr.com)
> 
> Unbeta'd so all miskakes are my own

 

Allison never believed that ‘hate sex’ could be a thing. It seemed just an alien concept to her, the idea that two people could despise each other so much that they tried to fuck their hatred out. That they would try and screw the other in submission and took pleasure out of the hurt pleasure of it all. It just sounded insane, more like an exaggeration of couples who were fighting used when they had sex during a fight.

But maybe she had never hated someone like that before. With every part of her being. Or perhaps it’s because she hadn’t come into contact with Derek Hale yet.

She didn’t hate him because he was a werewolf, she didn’t hate him because her family were hunters and it was just out of principal. The man was broken and she understood that the majority of it was caused by the hand of her own family. Perhaps once, she felt sorry for him. Maybe she still did, but she’d never be able to tell anymore. He was angry and dismissive and infuriating, arrogant in his own superiority over her, abusive in the enhanced abilities he possessed, mistrustful and unforgiving.

In times of danger, even with all their history, Erica, Boyd and Isaac could put aside differences, if only for a little while, because they knew all the help they could get was needed and Allison was willing to help, not make up for her past deeds but redeem herself as being different now to how she had been then. But Derek. No, he was stubborn and refused and fought her at every turn, and it was because of that they had ended up where they were: trapped.

When Allison kissed him that first time, it was just to get him to shut up and stop what he was doing because yes, trying to kick an exit through a wall would help them get out of their little predicament but it would also draw the attention of the basilisk that had slithered its way into town a few days back, and that really wouldn’t help them. She wasn’t even sure why she thought it would work. It was just her first reaction. A shock to make him sit down and listen to her so they could come up with a comprehensive plan to get them out of there.

She hadn’t been expecting him to kiss back, all rage and power and frustration, about each other, about the situation they were in, and she certainly didn’t expect the way she enjoyed it. She didn’t expect to moan or lock her arms around him roughly so he couldn’t move away. She didn’t expect to bite down harshly on his bottom lip, tearing until blood was drawn, or Derek grunting as he pushed her up against the wall beside them.

Derek ripped her clothes with claws, the sound of fabric shredding angering her and she yanked at his hair in retaliation, making him bare his neck to her, as the pieces of her leggings, her shirt, her underwear filtered to the floor.

He bit into her skin, teeth marks stark against the pale flesh and an obvious tell-tale sign of what they were doing with their time, and she dragged her nails along his back, the scratches welting and healing, giving her the opportunity to make more. For a moment, Allison wanted nothing more for them to stay imbedded, deep scars that would take as long to heal as her bites, something to show that she had left her mark and she muttered out a curse about werewolf healing.

She gripped his cock tightly in her hand, squeezing and pulling just to see the way his jaw tightened in pain that he would never voice, but couldn’t quite hide. It made her grin, an upper hand, and she made a show of pulling him from his trousers, of tugging down his boxers and pressing the elastic waist band against the skin between cock and balls, pinging it so the sound startled the silence; of rolling the head of his dick in her fingers – “enjoying yourself are we?” – and pinching at the sensitive flesh, her grin widening when all it did was bring more pre-cum. That was the good thing about men, she guessed, they could never hide their attraction, even if they hated themselves for it.

But Allison guessed, it was the same for women as well, when Derek’s fingers, thick and persistent, found her heat and pressed, pushing, forcing a stretch that stung delightfully and she contracted around the fingers, forcing him deeper. She rocked down, fingernails marking his shoulders and demanding that he make it better because he could do better than that, she was sure. Derek growled at the challenge and the touch against her clit was brutal and she couldn’t believe how wet it made her.

He fucked her against the wall, the uneven layer of concrete digging into her back with every upward thrust that sent her rubbing against it. Her thighs tightened powerfully on his hips, an attempt to still him because this was just as much about power and control than fucking the other. She bit into his neck and shoulders, increasing in ferocity as she watched each of her brands disappear before her eyes. He held her hair, yanked her head into an uncomfortable angle and made her watch him, a darkened stare of fury and passion and hatred that Allison was sure was reflected in her own.

Allison egged him on, because if he was going to fuck her, he was going to do it probably. Derek growled out harsh words about her father and hunters and what her mother would think knowing that she let an animal fuck her like this, and more importantly, how much she liked it, begged for it. She slapped from for that, the sound as harsh as the crashing of hips against each other, and Derek laughed at the touch and she forced his head to her chest to muffle the noise with her boobs.

Derek came first, much to her glee, muscles straining and trembling, when she reached a hand down to pull at his balls that had been slapping annoyingly against her ass. She felt him when he came, and she came with a victorious laugh because she had won.

It was Lydia that found them, with Isaac not far behind her, and neither of them seemed very convinced (or impressed) when Allison stated that the snake had attacked them and Derek had grunted in what was assumed to be agreement, although you’d never tell. Neither met each other’s eye and Allison continued with the job at hand, but once it was over, once the basilisk had been killed and his body lay, already rotting, in the darkness of the preserve, what then?

They never really spoke about it – not that they spoke at all before anyway – and whenever Lydia asked whether something had happened, Allison insisted nothing more than the usual arguments because you know Derek. She doubted Lydia was ever convinced with the story – “no snake leaves bite marks like that, you look like you’ve been mauled by a wild animal,” Lydia had told her and Allison had rolled her eyes, stated it was close enough and if there was anything to cover it before her father started asking questions - but eventually, she stopped questioning it and that was the point, right?

And then training started again, werewolves and humans and banshee working together because they needed to be more attuned, they needed to train because there was bound to be a new horror that would find its way to Beacon Hills.

So what if Allison shot her arrows a little too close to wear Derek was standing? So what if, when he looked up to glare at her, she smirked and made the next one land just between the spread of his legs?

And maybe she hung around a little later than she normally would, waiting until everyone had parted ways, because she knew that as soon as they were alone, Derek would take great pleasure in fucking her on the leaves or against a tree or, that one time, on the edge of the small lake. And perhaps, after a fight with her father or a teacher, she would storm her way to Derek’s apartment and handcuff him to his best, his coffee table, his computer chair, so he could do nothing but watch as she bounced her frustrations out on his dick.

It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t normal. She certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone about it (she wasn’t stupid, regardless of what her actions made her seem).

But every girl needs a hobby, right?

 

**Author's Note:**

> For more ficcery, follow me on tumblr : [queenofhales](http://queenofhales.tumblr.com)
> 
> Comments are gold :P


End file.
